I got to have a girl’s weekend with one of my dearest friends at her house in Texas. It was so good for my soul to spend time with her, live a few days in her life with her, listen and talk with her, reminisce with her. . . She is such a treasured friend and I love the memories we made.
I want to write so much more but I’m finding it nearly impossible to focus. I feel so fuzzy and disjointed, slow and laden, my processing speed is sludge. My body, angry. My emotions, charged. Tomorrow is a very hard anniversary. Wednesday an even harder one. Maybe that’s it. . .
I literally cannot write any more. I am on a totally different planet. UGH. This feeling is w e i r d.
*Since I missed posting for so many days while I was out, here are my past years’ posts to catch up:
August 20, 21, 22 and 23 of 2018
16 of 18
My social media post today:
I’m sitting here, while literally feeling the chemo drugs flow into my body, in quiet reflection of where I was a year ago. I had had a breast exam, a massive car accident, and a mammogram/ultrasound; then a very concerned radiologist who thought things were serious; then a scheduled biopsy.
The days in-between were torturous. The unknowns, astronomically difficult. The emotions, almost too much to bear. As I remember sitting in the hardest head and heart space, I was unsure of anything ahead, suspecting in my gut something was very wrong, desperate not to hear “it’s cancer” but knowing it was coming.
Little did I know of the whirlwind that was just days away that would throw me into the most transformative upheaval of my life. Every.Single.Moment in this has been, and continues to be, beyond description. Every.Single.Moment has been, and continues to be, wrought with intense emotion. Every.Single.Moment has been, and continues to be, life-altering.
Lord, that I would live changed. Every.Single.Moment.
There isn’t much more to say than this. I started my day with an echocardiogram because one of the drugs I have to have can damage my heart, so they check it every 3 months. Then to chemo. Then to work. As I’ve been home this evening, I’ve cried at the dinner table and now tears well up in my eyes as I sit here now. I hurt. My body physically aches. My heart and soul ache, too. And this chemo round has already been harder than the past few, so I’m not sure of what lies ahead.
Lord, meet me here tonight.
Capacity
I’m so grateful that while I feel awful and this round of chemo has been tough and I’m all sorts of anxious for Friday’s surgery, I had enough capacity to not only work today but also go to a parent volleyball event with Catelyn. I’m just crawling to bed and I’m beyond exhausted, but by God’s grace, I showed up. And I enjoyed it. Thankful for my momma who had Annie all afternoon and evening and who brought me dinner so I could eat right away when I got home. Beyond blessed.
And interesting that two other mommas (who also happen to be my friends) and myself all decided to help the volleyball program honor breast cancer fighters in their Dig Pink Night in October. What an emotional night that will be………. As the three of us stand up for ourselves and our fighting sisters, every tear that drops will honor every single moment in this treacherous and beautifully transformative battle.
And Then I Ran Out of Time
Acupuncture has been such a gift to me. For the past 8 rounds, on the Wednesday after every chemo-Monday, I have seen Joelle. She’s absolutely wonderful and blesses me each time I get to see her. And a THANK YOU that is just not big enough for my parents who pay for my sessions.
The thing about acupuncture…..The science and connection of the body is fascinating. And the expertise of tapping into the body’s own resilience is brilliant.
Also…The quiet of it is precious. As I lay there, literally unable to move a muscle, I am offered the opportunity to quiet my whole being. To rest. To slow down. To let my mind, heart and soul go wherever they want. Or wherever God takes me.
Some days I listen to my own breathing. And drift in and out of peaceful sleepiness.
Some days I feel from my head to my toes and back again…paying attention to all of the sensations along my body.
Sometimes I focus on my senses…what do I hear? Feel? Smell? See in my mind’s eye? Get from my intuition?
There are days that I allow my thoughts to wander without direction or purpose or reason.
And sometimes I lay there and whatever names or things pop in my head, I pray for them.
But I think my favorite session, so far, has been that for the whole 45 minutes that I laid there, I listed all of the things I am grateful for, one after another, never really having to stop and think too hard for the next thing. And then I ran out of time…….
Gratitude doesn’t minimize the suckiness of it all…it doesn’t sugar-coat the hell that it is………it doesn’t replace the awful with the “at least’s”….it doesn’t remove the hardness from the experience. It simply acknowledges that it can coexist with devastation. Which then may be what creates purposeful transformation.
The Eve of Another Difficult Unknown
Tomorrow is a big day. I see my OB/GYN for the first time since last year’s breast exam. Normally that isn’t a big deal to do that, but considering she said, “I’m not concerned…I’ll order a mammogram and ultrasound for your peace of mind, but it’s not worrisome,” to me 3 weeks prior to a diagnosis that sent me into the biggest upheaval of my life, it feels bigger than normal. I wonder what she’ll say. And I’m meeting with her for the sole purpose of discussing a hysterectomy and oophorectomy. I’m curious what she’ll say to that, too.
Then a couple of hours later I will go in for my first of many revision surgeries. A surgery that will make me look and feel like I was hit by a semi. A surgery that will take me out of commission, again, for some time. A surgery that requires general anesthesia and complete vulnerability as I put my life in the hands of other humans. A surgery that will continue to put me back together because of the ravage cancer has inflicted. A surgery, though, that also has hope. Surgeons who are experts in their craft. A God that is bigger than the unknown.
While I am weary, I am hopeful. While I am anxious, I am not alone.
August 20, 21, 22 and 23 or 2019
Leave Me Alone.
I have been in so much pain today. Ugh. My joints are dreadfully stiff and after standing in the gym for a couple of hours, tonight, I can barely move. Please, anastrozole, leave my body…..leave me alone………….Please.
All of a Sudden, It’s Tomorrow
Welp…surgery tomorrow. I was expecting it to be on the 30th…but they had to rearrange some patients and gave me the option of tomorrow or several weeks from now. Due to upcoming life transitions, the fullness of a new school year starting, coaching and my responsibilities there…I had to pick tomorrow. And this also offers the opportunity for a couple more surgeries this year if necessary because as of 2020, I’d like to be done with that part of the story (at least until we need to replace implants down the road….)
So, I’m wrapping my head around the unknowns that lie ahead. Will this heal in a way that is more permanent than we’ve experienced so far? Will this negatively impact my new tattoos even though my surgeon says he’ll work around them? Will I be able to bounce back soon enough for the stuff that awaits me next week considering I wasn’t expecting this?
And as I am typing this, I hear the whisper in my ear – “5 minutes at a time”………
Another Surgery In the Book…
Surgery was intense. He did a lot of work. And as always, the process was difficult from start to finish with the IV stick, the amount of people in and out of my prep-room asking me questions and talking loud and a lot, consents and trying to sign my name with a painful IV in my hand, being squeezed and drawn on as I stand naked in front of my plastic surgeon, the unknown of what I will look like after, the pure blind trust I put in him as he processes his plan right in front of me, walking into the OR and the shock of the icebox that it is, laying on the table and the hovering medical people getting me all hooked up, looking up at the big OR lights that would soon turn on and spotlight my naked, scarred body, drifting away into the nothingness of anesthesia, waking up in recovery wishing I could stay asleep forever because I know all too well the reality of pain and nausea that awaits, hearing the nurses talk loudly and wanting to go back into anesthesia land while simultaneously wanting to be teleported home and in my bed, the intense nausea that hits hard once I’m awake, curious about how the surgery went and if the doc was able to do what he intended, wondering what time it is to get a bearing of the present, getting dressed and walking to the car unsteady and shaky, the long drive home rotting in traffic and having the hardest time keeping it together…
Today, I puked in the car. The nurse has a theory that people who have surgery later in the day have a harder time with recovering and nausea due to the length of time of no food and water. And I think she’s totally right. Last surgery, I was first in the morning and by the time I got home, certainly still slightly nauseous, but I was eating a sandwich and a salad and I had a great appetite. Today, however, the nausea was dreadful and the waves of it are still wretched.
Nonetheless, another surgery is in the books. While I chose a very difficult road, I’m grateful for all that it is teaching me. We may do one final surgery in 2019 and call it quits for a few years to give my body rest. I trust that we will end this year as best we can and I am looking forward to the rest that awaits.
Recovery
This go around has been tough. A lot of emotions, a lot of nausea, a lot of pain. And as always, gearing up for the third day is difficult. Wondering what it looks like under the body suit and the bandages. Nervous. Anxious. Hopeful. Uncertain.
As I have learned, though, that is a bridge I will cross tomorrow. For tonight, I will continue to rest in the unknown and seek peace for my soul as that is all I have. I can’t predict tomorrow or what it will be like, so I will practice letting tomorrow be tomorrow and tonight be tonight.
No 2020 posts for these days.